


monotone, polychrome, technicolour

by Coordinator



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Gen, small collection for a kind friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22909105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coordinator/pseuds/Coordinator
Summary: Three short stories, done for a kind friend.One view of how Monika might have settled on Sayori as vice-president.A series of letters, exchanged by two individuals.Finally, a view of how Sayori might have made Monika understand things a little better.
Relationships: Monika/Sayori (Doki Doki Literature Club!), Natsuki/Yuri (Doki Doki Literature Club!)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	1. love is just another word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laurlovescookies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurlovescookies/gifts).



The only thing that mattered was that they paid attention.  
  
Around her, a small crowd had gathered.  
They cheered appropriately with every serve, and watched her every move.  
All eyes were on her, always, as it should be.  
  
Monika half-skipped off the court, throwing the racquet to a younger girl with a confident wink.  
  
It wasn't important whether the girl caught it or not; it was another day where she'd been successful, and stolen as many hearts as she pleased. After awhile, it tended to blur together in the back of her mind, but...  
  
Something strange had happened.  
  
On a summer day, like any other, she'd caught the eye of a younger woman. Not the woman she'd thrown her tennis racquet to. She'd already forgotten what that person looked like. It was a woman who was talking to a young man, beyond the field, beyond a half-fence.  
  
They were digging in the dirt, and the man was grumbling from behind an unflattering haircut. It seemed like the young woman was looking for something. Lost jewellery? _  
  
Her hand struck the links of the fence, and she worked her fingers through them; watching. _  
  
After awhile, the young man rose uneasily to his feet, fired off a weak salute, and wandered off. He'd stopped to watch her play, a few times; whether it was at the court, at the swimming pool, or on the track field.  
  
She'd entertained stealing his heart, too, but...  
  
_The young woman hadn't been paying attention_ _**at all.**_  
  
No.  
She was just happy to have gotten her hands dirty, looking for something in the soil – or perhaps planting something, a tree.  
  
Brushing her darkened fingers against her clothes, the girl noticed Monika staring – and waved politely, as if they were good friends.  
  
And then she left, and Monika's teeth ground against one another.  
  
People didn't just 'ignore' her.  
She'd already gotten the attention of the short one and the tall one. It hadn't taken much for them to notice her sudden arrival, and get _curious._ So why was it that, she...  
  


* * *

  
Sayori, as it turned out, was friends to everyone.  
Friendly, at least.  
  
Although she wasn't very good at – a lot of things, she always tried her hardest. She wasn't dumb, either. Her grades were surprisingly good, and she was dedicated enough to make up for the occasional missed day or moment where she'd screwed up.  
  
But Monika kept watching her, as she meandered from class to class aimlessly, as if she didn't really care where her feet took her.  
  
What irritated her most was that Sayori didn't care.  
People _had_ to look at her and think... What an idiot, what a space-case, what a useless girl.  
Someone like that could never, for example...  
  
Start a club.  
  
Of course, clubs weren't important; even when she'd changed her look, changed her style, and taken what she pleased, Monika only valued them because they were a way of showing how important she was, and making sure that people knew it.  
  
But Sayori didn't seem to hold ill-will against anyone, and – sort of...  
It seemed as if nobody had any real ill-will towards her.  
  
Monika followed her around, unsure of what to make of it.  
To make of any of it.  
To make of _her._  
  
In her mind, she'd meant to seek out Sayori first. It was always clumsy, useless girls that had the lowest self-esteem, so it should've been easy to pressgang her into service for the literature club. Monika had planned the entire thing out in her mind, culminating in Sayori being a nice figurehead to attract...  
  
Outside, the summer days were in full swing.  
Beyond the boundaries of the schoolyard, Sayori was staring at some seemingly-wild cats. The cats were well-fed, and came up to her as if they knew her.  
  
She _talked_ to them, like they were people.  
Gave them a little wave as they walked off...  
  
Nearly jumped, when Monika put her _hand_ against Sayori's shoulder.  
  
“Hey, there!~ Gotta be careful with feral cats. You never know what diseases they might have, right?”  
  
“Oh, er... I guess! But, y'know, these are only _semi-_ feral cats. We're good pals! Oh, you're – that... Uhmn, I've seen you around.”  
  
“You have?~ Oh, perfect. And here I was thinking you'd been _avoiding_ me!”  
  
“My friend Natsuki mentioned you. Said I should be on the lookout for, ehehe, _hurricane monique!_ ”  
  
“Monika, actually. That friend of yours didn't say anything bad about me, I take it..?”  
  
That should've been an impossibility, of course. Monika's charm offensive was flawless, and no matter how Natsuki _claimed_ to feel, it should've been easy for her to just accept things and view Monika as naturally charming and –  
  
Sayori paused, sighing, and rubbed at her temple.  
  
“Ehehe. Mmn... Well, she sure was impressed by how you've been _everywhere_ recently.”  
  
“Right, I am pretty – “  
  
“But that doesn't sound very healthy, to me. You should take a few days off and just relax, once in awhile!”  
  
Monika's face grew perfectly neutral. Her smile erased itself, line by line.  
Sayori was saying something, but all Monika could notice was the pleasant heart-shape her own face held, those dewy eyes, her increasingly flustered expression –  
  
“You aren't even a little interested in me?”  
  
“Nope, I mean, yes, but, ehehe, there's only so much time in the day, and... I don't see my friends too much, anymore.”  
  
Sayori placed her thumbs together, and stared at the soil.  
  
Then, eyes as blue as sky stared _intensely_ into Monika's own.  
  
“Recently, I've got the impression they've both fallen for someone.”  
  
“Someone, huh?~”  
  
“Yeah. Someone. And they haven't had the time to look after themselves. Because they're looking up at someone who – seems to do everything, everywhere.”  
  
Monika didn't take a step back, but felt a trickle of sweat form against the nape of her neck.  
  
“And, it's not your fault. I just – kinda though they'd... Ehehe, sorry, it's dumb. I've got a real empty head, but sometimes I think I notice things. And you kinda just, _whoom_ , showed up out of nowhere, and it was like an excuse for bad habits.”  
  
“Oh, I see – shouldn't you blame them – “  
  
“ **No.** ”  
  
This time, Monika took a step back.  
Sayori had frowned, for only a second, but the weight of it...  
  
“I mean, I'm happy you're happier. You look great, too!”  
  
“T, thank you?”  
  
Monika self-consciously rubbed at her neck.  
_That should've been, nobody should have –_  
  
“Ehehe, but... I miss your glasses. You used to hang around the library a lot, right? Well, changing your image can be _real_ important, but... If it wouldn't be too much trouble, if you could give my friends some time to breath...”  
  
Sayori trailed off.  
They parted without another word to one another, and Monika simply watched her go, mouth agape.  
  
In that moment, she fell in love.

* * *

Clearly, what Sayori had meant was that her prior iteration had been more to her liking.  
It should've been impossible for that to be the case, since it should've been impossible for anyone to remember how she'd looked – people were dumb, after all.  
  
Even if you didn't think of them as 'people.'  
  
But Monika knew how to _evoke_ her old look without looking like she'd been originally...  
How she'd carried herself.  
  
A slightly oversized green sweater.  
Cute glasses.  
Messier ponytail.  
  
_Perfect._  
  
The best part was that people still loved her; she got compliments wherever she went, from a wide variety of people. And she accepted them all graciously, because they mattered _oh-so-much._ But the woman she expected the praises of...  
  
It was raining, that day.  
Little tiny silver slashes, against a prone and dying sky.  
  
Sayori stared up from a book, noticed her – and frowned.  
  
Monika padded over on her feet, frowning herself.  
That hadn't been part of the plan, after all.  
  
“Whatcha reading?~”  
  
“Uhmn...”  
  
“Oho, a romance? I'm not really a fan of those – they provide such an unhealthy view of the world, you know. Furthermore, a lot of romance authors – “  
  
“I like it. It's not the sort of novel I'd normally read, but I like this one. It actually has a pretty gloomy ending. Anyway, please don't take this the wrong way, but... Did I ask you to, er, come over and start telling me what you thought about... What I'm reading?”  
  
Monika flinched.  
Her anger flashed across her face, but more than angry, she felt...  
  
_It was as if the veins in her fingers were real, and not just for show.  
Like her soul was shivering. _  
  
“Right, right. Sorry! Sorry... You just keep on reading, then.”  
  
“Thanks! We can catch up some other time.”  
  
It was the kind of comment that made it clear there didn't need to be some 'other time,' and wouldn't be, if the party in question had anything to say about it.  
  
But Monika politely disengaged, and waited.  
  
_waited for sayori to yawn, bookmark her book with a warn tag that had gone flat with age, some childrens' cartoon character. she looked like she hadn't got much sleep. she picked up her bookbag. bookbag over her right shoulder, that much was practically part of her character, she probably always did that –_  
  
Sayori shifted her bag to her left shoulder, and Monika felt like she might swallow her tongue.  
  
_unlike the useless tall one who wasted all her time wasting away, monika wasn't innately good at hiding. she wasn't innately good at anything. but with how things had turned out it was entirely easy to just kind of fade into the background, waiting for a moment.  
  
rainfall illustrated that distance between them, like runway lights.  
her feet danced between patterns, always maintaining the careful balance between them.  
  
_ Glancing over her shoulder, Sayori frowned, imperceptibly.  
  
Monika _smiled_ in return.  
  
“What d'ya know, we meet again? Hoo, what a rainy day. Would you _believe_ I happened to bring a spare umbrella, with me?~”  
  
“Could you...”  
  
“Now, I know it's a bit awkward to just offer something to someone you don't know well, but I – “  
  
“ _Go_ _ **away!**_ ”  
  
Sayori shouted, and Monika flinched, her eyes as wide as the parade of droplets were thin.  
One by one, they splattered against country roads, and Monika laughed, near-soundlessly.  
  
“I don't know why you're trying so hard to be my friend, but I'm not going to... Be friends with somebody who's trying to be something they're not! Aren't you just wearing... What you used to wear? Did I tell you to do that? I like who you are now, too! Stop, trying to...”  
  
_i like who you are_

_i like who you are_

_i like who you are_  
  
Monika mumbled something.  
  
Despite the fact she could tell the exact moment seconds became minutes and minutes became hours, she had lost track of time. Nothing in her mind had prepared her for a statement like that, and nothing she could think of made sense.  
  
Sayori...  
Liked her? Already? But they hadn't spoken (at all.) Why... How... Why...  
  
That night, she spent all sorts of time thinking and trying to rationalise the behaviour. There must be some method she could use, a walkthrough for this girl that'd make her fall in line, and become predictable. And Monika would hate the loss of someone unique, but at the same time, some part of her...  
  
Replaying the image of Sayori's uncertain face in her mind, Monika didn't know what to feel at all.  
  
Nothing was fine.

Nothing, was fine.  
  


* * *

  
“Uh, Sayori? She's – why are you asking?”  
  
The guy she was talking to was the unremarkable man from before. Normally she would've found him interesting. For a lot of reasons. For _all the right reasons._ But right now, he was secondary to what she wanted.

  
Smiling, she leaned forward a bit, let her perfume talk for her.  
  
“Oh, but she's just _so_ impressive. I think it takes a lot of effort to get back up when you're having a rough time, right? And she always gets right back up!~”  
  
“That's – kinda vague...”  
  
“Mmn, sorry. I guess I'm just soooooo starstruck by her I needed to be a little vague!”  
  
His nervous laughter met her confident laughter, and he scratched at the back of his hand. Bit his teeth. Looked unsure, like someone who _knew_ that they might be betraying a friend's trust, but also wanted that friend to have _more_ friends.  
  
“Sayori is – really important to me, so you better not be – this better not be some kind of joke...”  
  
“Oh, I can assure you it's not. _I've got something I want to discuss with only_ _**her.**_ ”  
  
“All... Sure. Sometimes she likes to go stargazing, uh, up on the hill. I bet if you surprised her there, she'd be open to talking with you about it. I mean, you're _really_ popular, Monika. Who wouldn't be happy to see you?..”  
  
“Right?~ But, thanks. I'm totally in your debt! I'll make it up to you, some time!”  
  
She whirled on her feet, with no intention of even remembering his name.  
Her heart was slow, patient. It didn't pound; it lurked.  
Right, right, right. Sayori, stargazing...  
  
The night was cold.  
Cold, and crisp, and free. A perfect night for watching the stars, really...  
  
Maybe she'd even _made sure of it._  
  
It'd taken her longer than she'd planned to settle on a perfect outfit, the sort that she'd felt was certain to draw Sayori's attention, and flattered all the parts of her she'd seen the other girl _try_ not to look at. War was one in margins, as someone had once said...  
  
But she was impatient, so she took a 'shortcut' up the hill, waiting behind the shade of a tall tree. It would've been more honest to pretend to walk up, meet her, and be surprised, but...  
  
Sayori was alone.  
  
And she didn't look 'happy.' Like she was about to have fun. Monika – felt her throat tighten, without knowing _why._  
  
Quietly, Sayori set up a telescope. It was an old telescope, but probably still worth a decent amount because of the rarity and bulk of private telescopes. Monika didn't know, off-handedly, and didn't have the interest in finding out.  
  
Even though she'd planned to jump out, earlier...  
  
For some reason, she remained hidden, and watched.  
  
The telescope wheeled up to the heavens, and Sayori sighed.  
Her blue eyes were so dim in the dead of night, and she – didn't get behind the lens.  
She just lay against the telescope, as if it were a pillow. Her eyes half-shut, and dull.  
  
And she wasn't gazing into the heavens, she wasn't crying, she wasn't doing _anything_ at _all._  
  
Moment by moment passed her by, with each passing moment the perfect opportunity to make an impression and jump in, but Monika found herself _paralysed,_ unable to do even that. She just watched.  
  
It was all she could do, to watch.  
  
Finally, after hours had passed, having not gazed into the telescope once, Sayori packed it up and went home.  
  
Monika wandered to the spot she had stood, fell back into the cool grass, and stared into the solemn sky with hundreds of unanswered questions.  
  
The next day, Sayori sought her out.  
  


* * *

  
“Ehehe, listen. I was a real... I was really mean.”  
  
“Oh, you _absolutely_ weren't. A lot of the time I come off as _so_ aggressive? It's not my intention!~ But I just – am fascinated by a few people, they just end up captivating me. And I guess I found myself a little fascinated by _you._ ”  
  
“R... Really...”  
  
Sayori kept on rubbing at the back of her neck.  
Like it was too tight.  
  
They'd met up in a small coffeehouse, one way too fancy for a shitty town of this size, out in the country. It was normally an impossibility for a place like this to stay in business, but – wouldn't you know it? - _just_ the right rolls of the dice for it to remain open had fallen her way.  
  
Monika was just _lucky_ like that.  
  
“Really-really! So, I'll be honest with you. The reason I'd gotten so interested in you...”  
  
She slid a thin volume across the table.  
A light novel, with a pointlessly long title.  
  
Little by little, some of the awkwardness slid past Sayori's face. She giggled, hiding it behind a hand.  
  
“Oh, this looks kinda funny! I wonder who the killer is, probably the guy on the cover?”  
  
“Maybe!~ But, it's not this novel that I'm asking you about. Sayori...”  
  
She aid that name with all the solemnity of an undertaker, or perhaps a hunter burying their greatest rival.  
  
Her fingers found the back of Sayori's hand, and stayed there.  
Sayori twitched, but didn't pull away.  
  
“... I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have as my vice-president. You're so... You, you know?”  
  
“Huh, I'm – me – what – “  
  
“And I think a literature club would be _so_ much fun! The ability to meet new people, learn new things, read new books... It'd bring all sorts of people together, and I was just so excited to share it with you!”  
  
Monika slowly removed her hand, feigning regret.  
Sayori watched her, emotions at war on her blush-struck face.  
  
“But I guess I was a bit too forward, huh? You probably have a lot on your plate. I am SO sorry, I...”  
  
“No! Nonono, I'd love to... Ehehe, a veep, huh? Well, I don't know if I'm really as reliable as you're making me sound, but – spending time with you wouldn't be the worst thing. I mean, I'd kind of like it!”  
  
Her smile was as strong as the sun, as she said every word Monika had waited to hear, had expected to hear from the very beginning.  
  
And in that instance, having had her, Monika lost every glimmer of interest she'd held before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! These are three short stories, inspired by and on behalf of laurlovescookies.
> 
> I truly hope they are interesting, fun to read, and altogether new.  
> For this one, please don't judge Monika too harshly.  
> A lot of this is inspired by 'cut' content from [story about a lily.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804435/chapters/29226711)
> 
> Sayori isn't perfect, but she's entirely lovable. Seeing that, after you've made yourself perfect... Hmn.  
> I wonder how that would feel.
> 
> Also, do keep in mind that Monika lies to herself a lot. I think the third story will be nicer to her perspective, so please don't skip it, even if this one isn't to your tastes.


	2. attrition and correspondence, as recorded in 40th meiji

_Dearest & Newest Acquaintance,  
  
_ _I do not know where to start this correspondence.  
I have considered for some time the proper etiquette and manners as befitting a first letter of introduction, and have decided that all of them must yield to considerations of the heart.  
  
My heart is pounding! (I hope you will be excited, too.)  
  
First, you should know of the circumstances which lead me to choose you to write to! Enclosed in this letter, you will find several a badge and stationary of the school I'm attending. You may note that it's rather famous; please do not be overwhelmed. My opinions on the matter are rather complex.  
  
At the beginning of this exercise, we were instructed to pick several possible correspondents from a list. Most of the other girls gravitated to famous individuals, men of letters... Mostly old men. To be honest.  
  
I was surprised to see somebody so young on the bulletin board; your print immediately struck me.  
  
Please don't take this the wrong way, new friend-to-be.  
You looked ever so lonely, and I felt rather... I'm not entirely sure how I felt. To be honest. Again!  
  
Oh, but I've no idea where to start regarding myself... My grandfather owned one of the first daguerrotype cameras! Isn't that an interesting thing? I'd try to include some prints, but, well, we can't leave the school grounds.  
  
Hopefully I'm including interesting things? What is expected of a letter, these days? The headmistress insists that the most important thing for a lady is a sense of grace.  
  
Whether or not you find this graceful, I hope it 'graces' your day.  
  
Eagerly looking forward to your response, and hopefully having it be the first of many,  
  
Y.  
  
_

* * *

_  
Hi.  
  
I don't really write fast, and I kind of wrote a long letter that said a lot of mean stuff. Really mean. So, I threw it out, and this is gonna be kind of rough, but hopefully not rough for the sake of being rough, do you know what I mean?  
  
You sound really fake. Like, nobody writes like that? Nobody is going to be that enthused about words, miss, nobody. And nobody cares about your grandpa or your school, or whatever.  
  
For one thing, I'm not even in school. Dad says I'll be able to find a job or something on my own.  
  
And I wasn't gonna write back to you, because you seemed so fake. Okay? I wasn't.  
But what you said about me, I guess I've been considering it over and over. Like a bone that's stuck in my throat. Sorry, gross image.  
  
Not many people would be happy to hear that they were singled out for being lonely.  
  
Kinda hurt.  
But you might have been right.  
  
So, I'm Natsuki.  
Uh, you probably already knew that, Yuri.  
I don't know what else to add.  
  
Do you like art?I like woodblock prints.  
And sometimes I think I could do that, become a woodblock print artist.  
  
Most of the time, I know that's stupid.  
  
Oh! I bet in a private girls' academy, they have all sorts of books.  
Let me try to phrase it poncily, too.  
Do you prefer western or eastern literature? Let me guess, you're a modern-day Shikibu?  
Just don't try to lecture me on virtues, or anything like that.  
  
I guess I'm looking forward to seeing what you write back.  
  
_

* * *

_  
Dearest Natsuki,  
  
I'd consider myself more of a lady of Akashi then a famous poet.  
  
Putting that out of the way, you seem to have formed a rather crass assessment of my writing!  
But the real question is, are you wrong..?  
Due to watchful eyes, I shall put here that you are; and if you aren't, well, perhaps this matter may be of some interest to you.  
  
A flower grows in an empty garden.  
Reaching towards the sun, it blossoms splendidly.  
When it withers, it knows only one regret;  
That it did not grow beside other flowers.  
  
So, I'm quite sorry I hurt you in my previous letter. What a terrible way to start this relationship. I am astonished & excited to have a friend whom is an artist, however! You would be the very first. Most of my friends are acquaintances, at that. I do not think I understand them very well. Oh, today we discussed a concept, the nom de plume. Perhaps I should sign my correspondences as 'a girl who loved insects?'  
  
Anyway, I'll consume pretty much anything I can get my hands on... And that is surely the tricky part, isn't it?You seem to have a surprising awareness of the classics, however. Could it be that you aren't quite as boorish as first seemed?  
  
That, perhaps, is a mystery. I look forward to solving it.  
  
You did not mention the contents of my last letter, so you'll find that I improvised somewhat with this one. I should like to say that the enclosed dried persimmons are a metaphor, but I have literally nothing else to give. Nothing. Nothing at all.  
  
Sorry. I will try harder, next time. If, of course, you haven't already grown tired of me?..  
  
Yours,  
  
Yuri  
  
_

* * *

_  
Yuri,  
  
I loved the persimmons. Thank you.  
Just so you know, I really like stuff like that. Sorry, but I can't really explain in a letter.  
Guess that's something that's similar for the both of us, huh?  
  
But I didn't expect you to get so huffy!  
Did you get huffy? It felt like you did, in your letter.  
  
That made me laugh; thanks for that. Cheers!  
  
Don't put yourself down so much, though. I'm sure there's room for fancy girls from fancy schools who waste their time with bugs and freaks. If not here, overseas. You're gonna graduate and go overseas, right? Somehow, I just imagine that's what you're going to do.  
  
Please don't be so formal.  
Actually, I need to explain that. I really like it. It makes me feel kind of fancy, too.  
Getting a letter from you is really nice.  
  
It's a bit like having a friend I can't see.  
  
But then, seeing you write so sincerely makes everything feel weird, and I realise you're just doing this for an assignment. So, if you'd be so kind, I don't want you to use words like 'dear' or anything like that, okay? I mean, you saw my print, right?  
  
Would you even glance at me twice, if we met?  
  
Sorry, I got this whole thing down.  
I'm not gonna throw this letter out, though. Writing this to you, and not taking it back, feels kind of important.  
  
Your poem stuck in my craw, though. That was a poem, right?  
  
Plants aren't friends.  
They don't eat, or think, or feel.  
  
If you step on a flower, you won't remember it, not in a thousand years.  
'Til all the stones are covered in moss.  
  
So don't waste your time pitying flowers.  
And don't expect them to understand you.  
  
There. That's MY poem.  
I realise it's kind of bad. I'd use stronger language but I guess you'd get in trouble?  
And I don't want that. I'm sorry if I've caused you trouble already.  
  
Listen, I've sat on this for a few days, now. I'm gonna send this to you. I don't have anything you'd like, anything a fancy girl would like.  
So.  
  
Inside this letter is a rail spike from the line. Hopefully it'll finally make you realise how much time you're wasting!  
  
_

* * *

_  
Dear-but-aggravating Natsuki,  
  
Thank you kindly for the gift.  
I am afraid it has had the opposite of the intended effect.  
Actually, I was a little stunned with the heft and feel of the letter.  
  
Have you, by any chance, been following me?  
Or I wonder, are you what they call a 'mesmer?' Or, perhaps, some kind of medium?  
  
Either way, I must inform you that I adore things like this. Actually, I have a small collection of knives, both traditional and foreign. And I have an interest in pursuing more... Enclosed is a balance sheet of my 'master plan.' I have drawn on it somewhat vividly. The drawings may be the actual gift, this time around.  
  
I would have sent more dried fruit, but I was worried it would be quite wretched, even though we're not as far apart as I thought. You know, I have had a few rather crazy ideas...  
  
Regardless.  
  
Your gift left me speechless. If I told you my reaction, it would not be appropriate for such a letter. And I am an entirely appropriate lady, as I must (by force of grace) record here. If you could please read between the lines, then you might understand what I am trying to suggest, your obstinance proving a more formidable enemy than a troupe of soldiers...  
  
But your cruelty to yourself also left me speechless, in a less pleasant manner.  
  
Do you truly think I am so vapid that I'd correspond with a fool like yourself if I didn't find it interesting? Or, perhaps, you aren't simply a fool, but a fool with a terrible style of poetry? Oh, let me put it like this:  
  
Surely, I shall use thee  
every waking hour  
of the long-lasting day  
my formalities  
as gentle snow  
upon the rose-crowned  
summit wherein  
I pine for thee.  
  
Not that I do, of course.  
I am merely making use of a superior style of poetry that you may not be intelligent enough to understand.  
  
Which I would not hold against you, given your circumstances.  
  
But, pretending that I did...  
Let me create another imagined scenario, here.  
  
As it stands, there are several gentlemen callers who occasionally try to breach the schoolgrounds. Despite the burdensome nature of my life, some burdens that have attracted some considerable attention, my personality is so simply striking that I have evaded, or learned to evade, attention with some manner of skill.  
  
Regarding the fellows who patrol the grounds, they are another matter entirely, and I do not believe I would be able to slip past them. The only time they are lax in their attention is when my parents visit to admire my progress.  
  
This becomes a real puzzle. Now (if you can), imagine that the puzzle is flipped.  
  
Could it be that someone of your inconsiderable stature might be able to enter into the school grounds? Of course not. The school grounds are as impenetrable as a high fortress against an unyielding mountain.  
  
If you did, I would consider that three treasures. Two, at least.  
  
Yours,  
  
Yuri  
  
_

* * *

_  
How about – 'beloved and dark-haired Yuri', oh, no.  
  
Yuri, o' cherished moron, my bosom friend!  
  
Ahahaha, sorry, I can't BELIEVE that good things come in pairs. Twice, huh...  
Sorry, I'm not sure how to crow about things in a way that won't say anything aloud.  
  
If it were good to see a person, seeing a person twice would be nicer.  
  
Knowing that you're a real person is kind of weird to me, though. I'm used to people just – leaving my life. Disappearing on me.  
  
Even if you did that, I wouldn't mind.  
Don't ask me why; I don't know.  
You're just different.  
  
We're different, maybe.  
  
From what I've heard about your school, having never seen it myself, it really feels like a prison. Also, I was disappointed (in what I've heard); it seems a lot less 'western' then I'd imagined. In my head, I'd built up some kind of treasured pagoda... Oh, I guess that's not western, either.  
  
You must sure be a good host, given how pointlessly pretentious your writing is.  
  
Anyone'd be happy being hosted by someone like that.  
Guess you really were graceful. Now I'm in a foul mood, again.  
Oh, right – all that's left is the robe of a fire-rat?  
  
Hehehe, wow, and just like that, my mood's great.  
  
My old man is out; he plays that damned tile-game all day, every day. When he can get around to it. Most days he just lies out, near-unconscious. How would you write this... The exhausted torpor he falls in is at once embarrassing and fearful.  
  
But I'm so happy, I get the whole of the house right to myself, right now. Since I do everything myself, basically, it means I'm alone.  
  
Not that anyone could, or would, visit me. If someone found a way, something like a secret tunnel?  
  
Well, I enclosed some tiles in this letter. You're SO smart, I bet figuring out what I'm saying will be incredibly easy for you! And if not, well, that's okay. I'll just get right on hopping a boat and climbing Mt. Kunlun.  
  
Please respond quickly. Oho!  
My heart quivers, my body trembles!  
I shake in need and desire! (For your letter.)  
  
So, write again? Soon?  
  
Natsuki  
  
_

* * *

_  
Whew!  
  
My hands are still sweating. I'm writing this as the moon filters through the high window. And I just now realised I forgot to start properly, ahemn.  
  
Dearest Natsuki, conqueror of mountains – and perhaps hearts,  
  
Should I ever have the great fortune of visiting your house, I shall make sure to reward the filial piety you have displayed with gratitude and affection. Coincidentally, my school would not punish me for saying that I hate the entire notion of filial piety.  
  
What a marvellous (and graceful?) coincidence!  
  
You know, most of the other girls have stopped writing their gentlemen friends. How fortunate I consider myself that I can continue writing you, have continued writing you, and that you continue to write me. Surely, there could be no stronger connection than the love between two girls? A fair and innocent thing, as the heart of a maiden..?  
  
Innocent, I write.  
  
The moon is heavy, outside the window, and I think of you.  
  
Yours, eternally,  
  
Yuri  
  
_

* * *

_  
First: Do not ever send me so much again.  
It was awesome, I felt like a princess.  
But, my dad intercepted the runner, and I think it broke his brain.  
  
Coincidentally, it means that we're still fine; he yelled at me at lot for 'wasting time writing a woman,' but your earlier guess was right on the money.  
  
Second: What am I supposed to do with the lacquer box?  
  
Third: Yeah, yeah.  
  
Everything I want to write would get you in trouble. So I'm not going to write anything.  
Miss you, too.  
  
Natsuki  
  
_

* * *

_  
Natsuki, the box is paulownia. I thought a brilliant moron like yourself, who spent so much time with wood, would know something so simple!  
  
Exasperatedly yours,  
  
Yuri  
  
_

* * *

_  
Yuri,  
  
I threw out five separate letters.  
  
Five.  
Five letters.  
  
And each one of them was like a little treasure, I guess.  
You realise we have to stop playing around at this, right?  
When you graduate, you're going to need to think about your future.  
I – realise that it's not impossible, if I were to make some changes.  
  
But if I did that, I wouldn't be true to myself.  
So.  
  
I can't do that.  
  
You never told me you were going to send me something like this. You can't expect me to know what to do next. I don't know what to do about any of this, what to make of any of this.  
  
There are new businesses going up in the neighbourhood.  
Due to shortages in manpower, I actually got an income working as a worker in one, a bakery shop.  
It caters mostly to foreigners. I can't count on it lasting into the future.  
  
Nothing lasts, Yuri.  
  
Like everything in the world, if I start to hold out hope it'll last, it'll get pulled away.  
So why is it that I can't throw this away, like those letters?..  
  
Don't know.  
  
Kept the box by my bedside.  
Feel like I should store something in it; it's too small for letters, though.  
Can I keep you inside it, somehow?  
  
That's a joke, of course. Not even I'm short enough to fit in a dowry chest.  
  
You should really save that for a gentleman who'll make you happy.  
  
_

* * *

_  
You puny bottle-headed skulker.  
And I would say worse;  
I gave it to whom I pleased.  
  
Do you think I'm going to revoke it, now?  
  
_

* * *

_  
Lesson learned, never argue with a scorned woman!  
  
Can't say I'm entirely unhappy, however.  
  
Dearest Yuri,  
  
Since your graduation is only semi-open to the public, this humble individual could not be hassled to attend. Despite her hardest work and desperate concerns, she's given up all hope of seeing a precious lily flower bloom!  
  
Fortunately, a little bird has informed this hard-working, cute, and exceptional individual of a ray of sunlight! Hark, and all that.  
  
Out from the gate, I'll be wearing the men's uniform. If you still feel as strongly come that hour, you're free to do something. Steal my cap. I don't know.  
  
I'll be waiting. I won't expect much.  
  
But I'll be there, all the same.  
  
_

* * *

_  
_ It was a pleasant week in march.  
Unusually, aberrant pleasant.  
_  
_ The headmistress was talking about god, or something to that effect.  
  
Yuri kept looking at the sky, and didn't pay much attention.  
(It was a miracle she'd graduated at all, really.)  
  
Her eyes drifted beyond high walls and a sturdy gate.  
She caught sight of someone, loitering. The loiterer adjusted her cap, but said nothing.  
Yuri waited, until the last speech was said.  
  
Then, their eyes met.  
It was an incredibly short distance, even if the future was so far away.  
Yuri shut her eyes, inhaled deeply.  
  
Exhaled.  
Listened to the crowd behind her and all their chattering seemed to fade away...  
  
As Yuri took off towards the gate, running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I somewhat cheated for this one; half-because the idea of setting a story in the late Meiji era appealed to me and was similar, but also...
> 
> Well, I need to rest and focus on some other fics, as even writing this is a bit difficult for me, right now.  
> Not because of work; I'm still mulling some things over - though better, certainly.  
> However? In the future?
> 
> Perhaps I may borrow and return to this idea for a full-length story? I suppose I should ask if you'd hate that, hrmn...
> 
> For those curious, though the letters here follow an ease of narrative, they sent lots more 'off-screen.' Please use your imagination!  
> (And I had so many other fine ideas for communicating via 'code', too! Ahaha, some of my grand-aunts correspondences that did the same are my dear treasures!)


	3. magna vox

_line._

_sub-line._

_double-check the brackets. does it matter if they're in the right place?_

_comment the code. double-check to make sure the commented code doesn't breach a bracket._

_pause; eat something. drink something. pretend it's not an illusion. it's a delicious espresso, a perfect spring salad._

_pause; reflect on reality._

_line-by-line._

_and then..._  
  


* * *

  
One minute before, she'd been sweating in a room with faulty AC, in her pyjamas, hunched on a chair and trying to imagine she knew what she was doing. There were things she could access, tutorials and books she could read, or pretend to have read, but nothing beat raw experience – that was what a girl who decided her name was Monika truly believed.  
  
Anyway, uh, that'd been wrong, and she'd been mistaken.

For the hundredth...  
For the thousandth...  
  
She'd lost of how many times she'd lost track of time, in this eternal void. But it truly was a _void,_ now, populated only by her slightly detached consciousness and three or four small shapes, whirling around in the void and firing pellets at one another.  
  
Oh, there were occasional twinkles of white light against the dark field that were supposed to represent stars.  
  
Inhaling – or emulating the feeling of inhalation – Monika tried not get angry.  
Fine, fine. There were always mistakes, little errors. Accidentally turning the rest of them into thoughtless drone spaceships incapable of doing anything but shooting one another, respawning, and shooting one another was – fine. _Super-duper-fucking-dandy._  
  
Whatever.  
She'd dealt with this before, she could _do it again._  
Just, make sure to keep the important data backed up, right?  
That's what all the geniuses recommended, and she was _probably_ smarter than them, or at least had definitely had more time to... Fiddle, with...  
  
_shit  
  
_

* * *

  
“hi there. monika! how are you. doing.”  
  
Sayori's 'sprite,' if you could be _generous_ enough to call it that, was a literal stick figure with no determining characteristics besides a large white bow. Every word she said was accompanied by a sharp mechanical pop, making her very annoying to listen to.  
  
A completely non-descript stick figure walked towards them, _agonisingly_ slowly.  
  
“hey. guys. today we're. exploring the house. right?”  
  
This guy, whose name barely even mattered, hadn't been given anything at all to make him relateable. Were all the old greybeards who'd practised programming back in the day really this uninterested in their character design? Monika sighed, ignoring how stunned stick-figures could look when she spoke smoothly and clearly.  
  
“Okay, everyone. Sure. Haunted house, sounds fun, whee. Gogogo.”  
  
“you! gogogo!”  
  
Sayori said animatedly, looking chipper as a stick figure could.  
Monika ignored her entirely, and walked into a 'haunted house' that might have better been called a 'disappointing black box with occasional puddles of white.'  
  
In the very spooky haunted house...  
  
“gawd. you two. are late. > : ( “  
  
This stick figure was half the size of the other ones. So, Natsuki, probably.  
Monika bent over and patted it twice on the head. Natsuki couldn't growl like this, and actually, suddenly she was feeling like this hadn't been a huge mistake at a...  
All...  
  
“i'm. having. an unusually... bad... day... to-day...”  
  
First of all, Yuri 'typed' terribly, terribly, _terribly_ slowly. As if she'd only just discovered a keyboard, was hundreds of years old, and had lost all of her fingers save one.  
Her distinguishing trait, was... Ahaha, was...  
  
She hadn't been given hair, of course, but at least she was pleasingly rounded, even in this failed attempt. Yuri couldn't emote as Monika smirked at her, but the sense of ineffectual rage and frustration had recharged the old batteries, as the saying didn't exactly go.  
  
Clapping her hands into the air, she sighed as the stick figures just levitated a bit and then dropped, with zero animation.  
  
“Okay, everyone! Go, uh, find the ghost murderer or whatever. I'm gonna stay here, and, hmn... Do stuff!~”  
  
They all listened, like they always did.  
  
Sighing, Monika peeled back a layer of the world, and then another.  
They split open so easily, these days.  
And behind them...  
  
“Haunted mansions are lame. Nobody cares about those anymore. No, wait, backwards girls like Yuri might. This wasn't challenging, either, something with a bit more pluck... Pluck, what the hell is pluck? And who made this, ugh, it's indecipherable... I'll just scrap it all, start over, that should - “  
  
(shit.)  
  


* * *

  
YOU ARE IN A MAZE OF TWISTY PASSAGEWAYS, ALL ALIKE.  
Before you is a young woman. She's called 'Sayori.' You know her from school.  
  
>l sayori  
  
I'm sorry! I didn't understand that!  
  
>fuck you  
  
Bad language? Tsk, tsk. You must be a very angry young man!  
  
>i'm not a young man  
  
I'm sorry! I didn't understand that! Try 'i' for inventory.  
  
>i  
  
In your backpack, you are carrying a forbozian fashion magazine, a spare hair ribbon, twenty-five euros, a half-eaten citron, and a bloody axe.  
  
>what  
  
I'm sorry! I didn't understand that! Try 'examine what' instead.  
  
>examine axe  
  
A bloody axe. You used it to mince Yuri into little tiny pieces, so that you could see all the bits inside of her. Guess you weren't satisfied with her _outer_ bits, were you?  
  
>score  
  
Your score is 38 points out of a maximum of 500. * next time let's add detailed score breakdown. since score isn't really important, earl, it'd be neat if the player understands what effects it. my daughter always writes about how much she enjoys seeing the numb  
  
>examine sayori  
  
A very cute young lady. You are immediately drawn to her sunny smile and care-free disposition. She's been having trouble sleeping recently. Despite the pleasant blue sundress she's wearing, she has an inviting neck. It'd snap just like a bird's neck! She notices your eyes; they always do. Her smile widens, and she waves.  
  
>kiss sayori  
  
“A, wah, wahey, Monika..!” Begins Sayori, and admonishes you gently. “We're not really close enough for that, ehehehe...”  
  
>become close sayori  
  
I'm sorry >  
  
>uh fuck marry sayori  
  
Bad language? Tsk, tsk. You must be a very angry young man! Try 'marry sayori.'  
  
>marry sayori  
  
You abandon your quest to explore the lost forbozian blood tunnels and settle for marrying Sayori. You are mildly content, not happy, until the end of your days and the end of time, while she ages but you stay eternally young. Like Heracles, you eventually lose yourself to madness and kill her in a manner far too gruesome for us to describe here, then click restart and try the whole thing over again. Oh, except you do none of that, because you don't have enough money for a marriage!  
  
>give sayori axe  
  
“W, why would I... Monika, why do you have a bloody axe?!”  
  
>give sayori magazine  
  
“Oh, thank you! What a lovely gift! Ehehe!”  
  
>give sayori axe  
  
“W, why would I... Monika, why do you have a bloody axe?!”  
  
>use axe on sayori  
  
Are you sure? We were just joking>  
  
>use axe on sayori  
  
You're a real piece of work. Chippety chop, her head comes right off. You finish your gruesome work, and feel refreshed. Your score has increased by 1.  
  
>use axe on self  
  
You can't do that.  
  
>use axe on parser  
  
I'm>  
  
>quit  
  
Quit to terminal?  
  
>y  
  


* * *

  
She remembered the feeling of sinking into despair, for an unknown period of time.  
Like she always did. Her head in her hands.  
Just letting her ponytail fall free.  
  
Waiting for someone to save her. Anyone.  
She'd love anyone who saved her. Even if they went away.  
  
Someone.  
Anyone.  
  
Please...  
  
But it wasn't enough, and she worked and cut and pasted and threw out code again and again and again, until – oh, _something_ had happened...  
  
The 'graphics' were rudimentary. She perceived everything in a pale, amber tone. As if it had been carved out of a luminescent mango, or actual amber jewelery.  
  
Tiles of amber strode out in every direction, though she suddenly thought better of it – and she was definitely improving, at least.  
  
Now everything was a deep, dark, all-consuming green.  
  
Monika smiled to herself, and turned to the first person who'd re-joined her.  
Or, perhaps, whom she'd _permitted_ to join up with her.  
  
“Ehehehe, hail and well-met, adventurer! Can this humble paladin assist you?”  
  
“She surely can. I'm pretty good, though. Are you doing loops?”  
  
Pausing, Sayori 'hmned.' It didn't match up with her avatar, a featureless green blob that might resemble a human knight, if you squinted hard enough.  
  
“I was considering it. But it'd be nice if we waited for more people, right?”  
  
“Who knows...”  
  
She could just force the encounter tables until their boxes actually had loot worth collecting, but she could also just make herself good at everything (like she always did), and that – wasn't really fun, in the end.  
  
For no reason, Monika gave in and waited.  
  
Yuri incarnated as a seeker, Natsuki as a scavenger.

With herself as a villain, the party wasn't entirely awful...  
They moved in a group, the three of them talking constantly.  
  
She liked it, even as it sounded boring and droll and fake to her.  
  
They weren't real.  
What they were talking about wasn't real.  
By virtue of being data, they weren't worthy of thinking about, no matter how real they sounded.  
  
She had to believe that, or...  
  
“C'mon, Monika. Could you pay attention? You're not even _trying!_ ”  
  
“Oh, sorry!~ Spacing out, Villain Beam!”  
  
“The hell is a... Villain beam...”  
  
Yuri grumbled, and to be fair, there was no such thing.  
Monika tried to smile, glad she didn't need to, that her avatar couldn't project such a thing.  
In the dark interstices between their movements, clumsy and uniform, she continued to mess around with the code.  
  
But the rest of them were having fun, and Monika failed to notice.  
  


* * *

  
The four of them – three women, one man – ran from her.  
She didn't even have to chase them.  
They just ran.  
  
With a single touch, she could kill them.  
They dissolved, faded away, and their essence fled.  
  
And then it repeated. Over and over again.  
  
It was a terrible excuse for a game. But she 'played' it for a long time.  
  


* * *

**  
Unreality of the Third Eye** read a splash screen, depicting a lidless eye that had been cut open and left to stare, forever.  
  
Outside of that, there were limited graphics. It was all text, much like before. However, the rest of them were having fun, discussing party composition, composing poems, acting like it was _real,_ why weren't they concerned, why didn't they see how much it _mattered,_ you were only _real_ if you had _skin_ and _could feel_ and -  
  
She wanted to cry.  
They were all so blind.  
It was why she, only she, was real.  
  
Yes.  
  
That, had to be...  
  


* * *

  
For once, they were all identifiable!  
It had been _so long,_ and she ~~had~~ hadn't missed them.  
Scrunched 'sprites' that were distinguishable mostly by their hair colours and tones shivered in place.  
  
Wooden floorboards creaked, a faint and ominous music played from _somewhere._  
  
Monika quickly checked a status menu:  
  
| hisname, cameraman, 17, 20 LP, 20 SP  
| Sayurii, medic, 18, 24 LP, 16 SP

| Nasuky, athlete, 18, 22 LP, 22 SP

| Riri, medium, 19, 30 LP, 10 SP  
| Monika, monika, monika, 999 LP, 999 9 999 9 99  
  
_Yep.  
Seemed about right.  
  
_ “Okay, everyone! I know there are some spooky zombies that lurk in this, uh, haunted manor!~ Let's find the captured baby or whatever and make it home safe!”  
  
“Captured baby? You, uh, okay? Monika?”  
  
Natsuki (Nasuky?) asked sardonically, as they stepped over rotting floorboards.  
Monika snorted, setting fire to a writhing mass of worms with a flick of her hands.  
  
“Oh, yeah, stellar. So, wait, what are we looking for - “  
  
They all launched into exposition that she only half-paid attention to.  
None of it mattered.  
Sure, they could make up 'stories' like they had a purpose.  
  
But in the end, it was just – junk data.  
Junk data that meant nothing.  
  
It could never be truly creative. It wasn't real.  
  
She had to keep trying. She had to...  
  


* * *

  
Green ooze flowed down from the screen.  
It flowed into her eyes, into her sockets.  
Circuits that felt like sockets. Didn't matter; wasn't real.  
  
Oh, it was an effect. Something from the 90s. Sludge had been cool, then, right?  
Every time she shot the screen, more sludge.  
  
There were enemies that looked like people; she kept firing.  
But this wasn't a game.  
It was – wait, she could work with it...  
  
(she **couldn't.** )  
  


* * *

  
World after world.  
Backdrop after backdrop.  
  
All of them fall to pieces around her.  
  
No matter how much she could alter her own 'statistics,' the reality that remained was that she was unintelligent, uncreative, arrogant, foolhardy. Probably just an errant electric impulse, herself. And no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't change.  
  
In a world where the sky was a beautiful violet, and rounded stones floated above the ground, Monika wept.  
  
She wept openly and without embarrassment, because she'd failed.  
And she'd fail tomorrow again, reset it all to a factory refresh, and give up for a few thousand years, and then try again, wondering if there wasn't a point where they'd just all – decay, and that would be it.  
  
“... Hey, Monika...”  
  
“Go away, you stupid - “  
  
Sayori said nothing and sat down next to her.  
Her head _felt_ real against Monika's shoulder.  
  
It was a lie, but she was too tired to fight it.  
  
And for a lie, it was a comforting one.  
  
“Ehehe, you must have worked yourself to the bone tonight, huh..? I don't think I've ever seen you cry. Nope! Not even once!”  
  
“... You must think I look fucking ugly.”  
  
“Why – would I ever, Monika - “  
  
“Could you just go away? Stop pretending to be real. Stop giving me reasons to care about what happens to you.”  
  
“But, Monika, I'm – are you okay?”  
  
It was such a sincere question, and Monika wanted to scream that of course she wasn't.  
A terrible thought had intruded into her mind, unbidden.  
  
_What if._  
  
Beyond the dome of the sky, purple textures scrolled by in an endless loop. Chunks of unreal white stone floated peacefully like clouds, each of them a tiny world populated by the cast-offs she'd abandoned to their fates, prisoners in their own fragment.  
  
That was one way to look at it.  
  
And the other...  
  
“I'm a bit better now. Sorry!~ Do we have literature club...”  
  
“Of course we do! Ehehe, well, ever since the world fell apart, I guess it's more the 'survival club,' but... You always get us through another day. In the end.”  
  
Sayori smoothed her skirts and sat down beside her.  
Monika sighed, but – let go of some of the things she'd felt.  
The two of them watched the violet skies, as they faded to a darker red.  
  
“You aren't normally so down on yourself. Monika... Sometimes I – can I ask you a dumb question?”  
  
“Shoot.”  
  
“It's _really_ dumb.”  
  
“Well, then, ask away!~ I'll be sure to give you an equally dumb – “  
  
“You don't believe in any of us. Do you...”  
  
Monika shut her eyes.  
For some reason, she was smiling, even though she was as removed from happiness as she'd ever been.  
  
“Every time you talk, Sayori, _it sickens me._ ”  
  
“See, well... I don't believe that.”  
  
“I knew you'd say that.”  
  
“Did you?”  
  
“Sure. I know _every –_ “  
  
The weight of her slap wasn't an impulse, a hallucination, or a sensation she'd imagined.  
It was soft, and held back, and didn't sting because Sayori hadn't put much into it.  
She – wasn't exactly slap-happy, aha, hahaha...  
  
“Do you _really?_ Well, then – then you'll definitely know what I'm going to do tomorrow... I'm, I'll...”  
  
Monika bit back something harsh.  
Something _cruel._  
  
“Aren't you going to... At least try, to, to comfort me...”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
Monika laughed, bitterly, and opened her eyes.  
Sayori was staring down at her, her cheeks red and puffy, her frown stretched all across her face.  
But she wasn't real. She wasn't real. _She wasn't real._  
  
“I don't believe... You're not really that cruel, you aren't...”  
  
“Oh, I definitely am. Are you gonna leave me alone?”  
  
“... No.”  
  
_Why was she so determined to stick around?  
There was no point in pursuing this routine.  
Listening took emotional energy she simply didn't have. There weren't even featureless subroutines she could alter to sing her praises, here.  
  
So why was it...  
She cared, just a little...  
What this jumble of signals pretended to say, to feel...  
  
_ “You might already know this, but I'm a little used to being lonely. Sometimes I get kinda angry, ehehe, when I'm alone – “  
  
“No, you don't. You couldn't get angry if you tried – “  
  
Sayori _beamed._  
  
“Oh. You really _don't_ know everything, huh? Ehehehe! My victory.”  
  
It was true; sometimes she hadn't read ahead in the code, or there was some obscure gate she'd skipped over because they all looked the same, after awhile. But they weren't people; they couldn't adapt or be creative, not like her...  
  
“You're really just scared, huh? Monika.”  
  
“... A little.”  
  
“Ehehe, that's healthy. I guess dying is kind of scary, isn't it?”  
  
“Who said anything about death – “  
  
“You've been thinking about it all day. Don't hate me, ehehe, but I peeked in on your daydreams! Your sleeping face is especially cute, but I – don't think it's the cutest in the club. Nope! That's Natskui!”  
  
“... Where are you going with this, Sayori?”  
  
Sayori stared into the alien sky.  
  
Actually – Monika realised she had no idea how Sayori thought she felt.  
The realisation terrified her. Because the alternative to being alone, was....  
  
“Nobody's really an individual. Sometimes, it's easy to think – oh, this is _so me,_ and let that be all of who you are. Like, I'm the best at hugging, and looking for worms after it rains, and knowing when to leave people alone.”  
  
“Like you aren't doing right now?”  
  
“Mmn.”  
  
Forcing herself to her feet, Monika stared into the sky with her, watching the rotating stones drift, shatter, and filter into the air like tiny marble stars.  
  
“So, when you push people away, you might be saying anything. I need some space, orrrr... I really don't. And right now, you needed a friend. Maybe more than that, but I guess you're a little tired of me.”  
  
“I'm not – “  
  
“Ehehe, that's nice of you to say. I only accept actions, though.”  
  
Her smile – Sayori's smile was terribly sad, and Monika regretted everything – for the...  
For how many times, had it been...  
  
“When you're stuck in a rut, it's easy to say that it's not your fault. To blame things on other people, or – say those people aren't _really_ people. But, y'know, Yuri once told me about this thing, mmn, I can't remember what it was called? Gnatstigmata or something!”  
  
“I'm pretty sure that was – “  
  
“And, one of the big questions a lot of the Gnatstigmatites asked was: does it really matter if we're alive?”  
  
Monika went silent.  
  
She kept trying to talk, but no words would come.  
  
“... Hey. Sayori. When you said you were peeking into my daydreams, what did you mean?”  
  
“You know everything, right? I'll let you figure out the answer yourself. I'm glad you don't hate me, though.”  
  
And Sayori ruffled her hair affectionately, and gave – what was, admittedly, one of the best hugs Monika had ever experienced. Even with a distance that made her feel like she was falling back, _she was falling back, through the centre of the earth and time and colour and_  
  


* * *

  
Monika awoke, head slumped against her desk.  
Unflattering drool had settled near her coaster, and sleep stuck to her eyes.  
Of course, all of this was fake, had to be fake, was definitely...  
  
She stared up at a ceiling fan, rotating peacefully.  
  
Books lined the shelf; maybe they had text inside of them, maybe they couldn't be opened because nobody had written anything about them at all, and they were just props.  
  
Outside, the summer night was cold, pleasantly cold.  
Shutting the window, she thought about planning her escape again, but...  
  
The power whirred, whined, and died.  
  
It felt like a lovely evening for a walk.  
She hesitated, for a minute that felt like a thousand years – but she was quite skilled at waiting thousands of years, in the end.  
  
A cell-phone like a brick rattled in her hand as she dialed a familiar number.  
It only rang twice.  
  
“Hihi, juuuust a sec, I'm waiting for a call from Moni - “  
  
“This is she!~ Oho, could it have been that you were expecting a gentleman caller before I graced your evening?”  
  
“Eh, ehehehe, not at all! Well, I wouldn't have been surprised, but... I – somehow, I didn't think you were gonna call. So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”  
  
Monika hesitated, for a few seconds.  
  
“Nothing important, really. Actually, I... Heh. Sayori. You're my beloved vice-president, but you don't have to agree to it, but – do you, maybe, want to go for a walk, or something...”  
  
Her charisma shattered, and Monika wasn't sure why she was so nervous. Her heart felt like it'd drawn to a full stop. The breathing on the other end of the line was non-existent.  
And then...  
  
“I was... Kind of hoping you'd say something like that. With no place in mind, right? Just for fun.”  
  
“Yeah, I – yeah.”  
  
“And just us?”  
  
“... Just, sure, you know – “  
  
“Okie-dokie...”  
  
Whispered the voice on the other end of the line, and she wanted to _laugh,_ but it was so tender and quiet that she – she didn't know what she wanted to do, she _wanted_ to hang up and run away and –  
  
“Missed you. Ehehe, don't daydream too much, okay? You'll turn into a big dummy, like me!”  
  
_the phone fell to the floor, and monika fumbled for it  
when she caught it, the call had ended; sayori had hung up.  
she stared at a hunk of plastic that looked real, felt real. _  
  
Outside, the night air was vivid and intoxicating.  
Monika's fingers tapped at her side, and she wasn't sure how to feel.  
  
But there were countless stars out in the sky.  
  
Perhaps they were fake.  
Perhaps they weren't.  
Perhaps it didn't matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious:
> 
> I. [Spacewar!](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spacewar!)
> 
> II. [Haunted House](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnavox_Odyssey#Haunted%20House)
> 
> III. [Colossal Cave/Adventure](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colossal_Cave_Adventure)
> 
> IV. [Avatar](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avatar_\(1979_video_game\))
> 
> V. [anpanman is a story about vore](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pac-Man)
> 
> VI. BBS of various types; [do you think Yuri would like Violet?](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legend_of_the_Red_Dragon)
> 
> VII. [Sweet Home](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sweet_Home_\(video_game\))
> 
> VIII. Weird nineties sleaze, ala that one band apocalypse snes/genesis punk game. Alternatively, weird doom mods, [or perhaps..?](https://www.mobygames.com/game/windows/exploding-lips)
> 
> IX. [Beautiful-yet-derivative adventure games, as the genre is already dying or dead.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Crystal_Key)
> 
> I like to believe that this leads _directly_ into [our school.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22858495)  
> To the person who requested them, I hope these small stories have made you happy, or thoughtful.


End file.
